


Wait 'till you see my dick

by tsurakutemo



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakutemo/pseuds/tsurakutemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick keeps a count of the amount of times he sees Harry's dick. It's not a thing, or anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait 'till you see my dick

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about dicks. That's it, that's the story.
> 
> Dedicated to Beth. Ain't nobody as dope as you.

The 1st time Nick sees Harry's dick is when that picture of him at the X-Factor house leaks. He can't tell for sure if it's him, and he never bothers to ask, but he's almost convinced it is. Harry certainly never tells him it _isn't_ and that's at least something, because he's always quick to deny it when the rumour of him dating that girl or going off to the Southpole or wherever crops up.

 

The 2nd time Nick sees Harry's dick is a Saturday morning in June and Harry comes visiting. Instead of saying hello or hugging or anything else he usually does, Harry runs off to the bathroom.

“Hello to you too,” Nick says to no one in particular and shuts the front door. Turning around, he sees that Harry hasn't bothered shutting the door.

“Sorry!” Harry calls. Nick can hear him take a piss from here and grimaces.

A few minutes pass where Nick busies himself cleaning away the trash that's accumulated on the living room table and then he hears Harry's voice call out.

“Nick? Can you come here for a sec?”

Nick... tries not to wonder why Harry's asking for him while in the bathroom, but figures he's all done and heads over.

Harry is not all done.

In fact he's standing in front of the sink with a look of utter concentration on his face as he looks down. His jeans are at his thighs and he's wearing briefs, but they do nothing to hide the outline of his dick.

Nick covers his eyes with his hands. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks, torn between feeling fond and telling him off. He chooses the former, mostly because he can't stand telling Harry off for anything.

“I've never seen your dick.” is what Harry answers with. Nick's hands fall away from his face so he can stare at him.

Harry smiles at him, cheeky.

“Excuse me?” Nick manages. Harry merely shrugs, like it's normal to stand in your friend's bathroom telling them you haven't seen their dick like that's a crime.

“I haven't seen your dick,” he says. “We should compare, like.”

He pulls his own out like it's no big deal and honestly, can anyone blame Nick for looking? Staring, more like, but that's what people tend to do in Harry's company, and he knows all his friends would do the same if Harry did this in _their_ presence. No one call tell Nick this is wrong. Except his conscience, maybe.

It's a nice dick, all in all. A lot bigger than what should be allowed for an eighteen year old boy, though. At least Nick's thought right when he's thought that Harry is cut. Not that he's thought about Harry's dick in detail before. Just. People've been talking, is all. His friends. Him, a little. All for educational purposes, of course.

Harry's expression is expectant when Nick manages to drag his eyes up to his face again.

“Come on,” he says, impatient. “I've shown you mine.”

“This is the stupidest attempt at picking someone up I've ever experienced,” Nick tells him, but his hands are going to his fly nonetheless. “This is pathetic.”

“It's working though, isn't it?” Harry's grinning, clearly quite satisfied with himself. Nick thinks the only reason it's working is because Nick's persistence is pretty much non-existent and not because Harry is a smooth guy with great pick-up lines.

 

 

The 9 th time Nick sees Harry's dick is when they have a bet about how many times they'll mention soggy bottoms on this week's episode of the  _Great British Bake-Off_ . Harry's bet on seven, Nick's on three because he knows this episode isn't just about tarts. Harry declares before the episode starts that whoever loses has to streak around the apartment, which is lame because there's no one but Nick around to see, but Harry's a popular popstar now and can't be seen with his penis flapping around in public because the old lady that is Nick's neighbour would have a heart attack. And they can't have that, because she makes Nick cakes even more than Harry does.

The result is six mentions of soggy bottoms. Mary Berry is a fiend, Nick thinks glumly. Harry's wearing a self-satisfied smirk, smug because it's closer to seven than to three.

“Remember you have to go into all the rooms.” he says, as though that's something Nick's forgotten. His flat doesn't have _that_ many rooms, so it's not really a problem.

He's up and working his pants down when he remembers something.

“You didn't win.”

Harry frowns at him. “It was really close!” he protests.

“Yes, but you didn't win,” Nick grins in glee now that he has the upper hand. “And that means you have to do it too.”

Harry makes a face, but in the end he doesn't put up too much of a fight. He's more eager to get his clothes off than Nick ever was at his age and he supposes that's good, but on the other hand it also means he's seen him sprawled naked in the strangest of places, such as Nick's kitchen floor.

The round around the flat doesn't take a long time and they're back on the couch in no time, sitting next to each other. Nick's got his clothes back on but Harry hasn't bothered to no one's surprise, and they finish the episode without much fanfare.

“Knew Lucy had to go,” Harry says. “Thought she had a chance last episode but nah.”

Nick's honestly not focused too much on the episode, a bit distracted by Harry's dick all in his face like it is, resting against his hip. He stands by what he thought, about it being a nice dick. Sometimes he wonders what it'd be like if their dicks touched. Rubbed together. He's fairly sure he could stroke them both at the same time.

Someone should probably stop him before his mind goes any further.

 

 

Nick doesn't see Harry's dick this time but it's mentioned so he guesses it's count in the weird  _times I've seen Harry Styles' penis list_ he's got going on in his head. Matt shows him the article at work. Nick takes a look and has to muffle his laughter with a hand as he brings out his phone and shoots Harry a text.

_Ol' Swifty says you're uncircumcised. Harold, I'm disappointed. You've been lying to me all this time._

Harry texts back during the next song.

_Sorryyy I'm only cut for you_

_That is the most disturbing thing you've ever said to me_

Harry texts him a scissor emoji. Nick tries not to smack himself in the face. He's friends with a big _child_.

 

 

The 18 th time Nick sees Harry's dick is when they're both sprawled in Nick's bed. Nick wakes up in the middle of the night and is really glad he said no to the tequila shots Pixie wanted him to drink. He fumbles for his phone and squints at the light coming off it when he checks the time. It's just gone three am and he groans, flopping onto his back and dropping it back onto the night stand. He lays there for a while before he registers something's pressing insistently at his hip, and when he looks over Harry's sprawled on his side, mouth open. Harry's also naked and hard, if his dick poking at Nick says something.

He glances down just because he can. He hasn't actually seen Harry's dick hard yet even if he's seen it in every other state imaginable. It's almost a wonder that he's managed to avoid it. Reaching out, he shakes Harry by the shoulder.

“Oi,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep. “Up you get.”

Harry stirs, but doesn't do much except cuddle closer to him. Urgh. Nick can  _feel_ his fond showing.

“Harry.”

He shakes him harder and Harry finally wakes up, jerks and makes an embarrassing half-snort, half-mumble kind of noise Nick's going to tell all their friends about when he has the chance. Harry must be really sleepy because his first reaction is to rut against him. His next reaction is to jerk back, eyes wide.

“Oh god, I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen.”

Nick has to laugh, partly in disbelief because his dick's reaction to Harry rubbing against him was to twitch.

“Why is this my life?” he asks no one in particular, falling onto his back and covering his face with his hands. Harry moves and when Nick glances over he's also on his back. He fumbles for the night lamp and turns it on. Harry's expression is mournful.  
“What?” Nick asks, and Harry sighs.

“I thought that if I ever got into a situation where I was in your bed and hard it would also include you being hard. This is embarrassing.”

Nick has no idea what to say to that because it could mean so much, and he doesn't know where to begin.

“I've seen your dick in every situation possible, I don't think anything's embarrassin' at this point.” he finally settles on saying, hoping Harry would take comfort in it. Harry makes a face.

“Guess that's true.”

He rolls over onto his front and buries his face in a pillow for a moment. Then it's like he realises something and turns his head to look at Nick.

“You don't mind me being hard in your bed?”

Nick is taken off guard and frowns at him. “Well... no? I guess not? You're one of very many young boys I've had in my bed who've been hard, it would be weird to start minding.”

“But you've had sex with all of them.” Harry says glumly.

Nick... doesn't quite know how he's supposed to react to this. How did things come to this, anyway?

“Yeah... but that was the intention of bringing them here.”

“Would you have sex with me if we weren't friends?” Harry asks him, peering up at him. 

“Yep,” Nick replies honestly. “You're fit. Would've had sex with you anyway though, I reckon.”

Harry looks at him for a long time. “Really?” he asks at last.

Nick can only shrug helplessly.

“Course.”

Harry's expression turns satisfied and he's rolling out of bed. “Brilliant.”

Nick watches him wander off towards the bathroom and wonders what on earth just happened.

 

 

The time Nick's seen Harry's dick so many times he's lost count is the time they have sex. They're both drunk and stumbling into Harry's freshly renovated house and Harry's pressing into his space, pushing him against the wall and nosing at his neck.

“This is a terrible idea,” Nick says feebly, even if his hands are clutching and pulling at Harry's shirt.

“This is an awesome idea,” Harry mumbles, pressing his lips to his skin and sucking a mark. “You said you would have sex with me so have sex with me.”

“Harry-”

“I'm twenty,” Harry tells him, sounds like he's practised should Nick try to find reasons for them not to do it. “I've been legal for ages. You've let me kiss you for ages.”

That is true. It's like the night they talked gave Harry the courage to make a move and Nick's let him. He's fairly sure even Puppy's tired of seeing them make out.

“Kissing and fucking aren't the same things,” Nick says, but he knows he doesn't sound very convincing. It could have something to do with how Harry's groping him through his jeans.

“No, but they're both nice,” Harry says quite happily and kisses him.

Nick lets him, even kisses back, biting down on Harry's lower lip and finally moving, pushing him back only to walk him down to the bedroom.

Harry falls back onto the bed and kicks off his shoes, wriggles out of his jeans, and stares longingly up at him. “More kissing.” he demands, holding a hand out.

“You're impossible.” Nick mutters, but goes willingly and presses him into the bed, kissing him hard.

Harry moans, parts his lips to let him in and sneaks his arms around his neck to keep him close. His legs come up to wrap around his waist and it's nice. Harry's good at this, knows exactly what he wants from Nick, and he can go with that. It's a nice change.

It takes some time what with how Harry barely wants to stop kissing him to let him get his clothes off, but they finally both end up naked and on the middle of the bed. Harry's on his back and Nick's straddled his hips, can feel Harry's cock hard against his arse.

“Are you sure?” he asks, has to check, and Harry nods. His lips are swollen and his eyes are wide, dark with want.

“Yeah,” he gets out, hands running up and down Nick's thighs. “I want- I want so much, Nick-”

He's wanton, and Nick feels so unbearably fond, has to kiss his lips and his cheek and down his neck, sucks a mark beneath his collarbone where he can hide it. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, and he doesn't think Harry does either but he can't be sure.

“Have you had sex with guys before?”

Harry doesn't answer, tries to kiss him instead, and Nick allows it. He pulls back again after and looks down at him. “Have you?”

“Yes,” Harry finally says. He sounds like he wants to do a million other things that doesn't involve talking. Nick gives him a look and Harry sighs, long-suffering.

“Once,” he amends, “I wanted to see what it's like.”

“And?” Nick wonders, running his hands over his chest, and pinches his nipples. “Did you like it?”

Harry gasps.

“Yeah, I- yeah. Was nice.”

Nick snorts, because of course Harry would call getting getting a dick up his bum 'nice'.

“I'll make it better for you,” he mumbles, moving down. “Nice won't cut it.”

Harry reacts beautifully when Nick takes him in his mouth, arches up and curls a hand in his hair. He splutters obscenities when Nick jerks him at the base and focuses on the head, and Nick has to pin Harry's hips down so he doesn't gag him by jerking them up when he tongues at the slit.

“Nick, I'm gonna- I don't wanna come yet,” Harry chokes out at some point and Nick pulls back. “Want you to fuck me first,” Harry clarifies, breathless, and Nick squeezes the base of his own cock, closing his eyes. God, but he's thought about it before, about Harry telling him how badly he wants Nick to fuck him, how good he thinks Nick'll make it for him.

“On your knees,” he says, and helps Harry move.

He fingers him open with care. If this happens again they can go rougher another time, but for now he wants Harry to feel good, and in turn himself. Harry's useless, face buried in his arms and moaning, nearly keening when Nick finds his prostate and presses against it.

“Fuck me,” Harry finally grits out. “C'mon, Nick.”

“Impatient.” Nick tsks, but grabs a condom. He's glad Harry can't see him struggle with it, hands shaking, because he _wants_ so bad, he's thought about this for ages, shamefully jerked off to pictures in his head where Harry's got his legs spread for him. And now that he can, well...

He finally gets it on and keeps a hand on his dick, pulling Harry back with his other hand on his hip. He rubs the head of his dick over Harry's hole a couple of times and Harry can only groan, fisting the sheets in his hands. He starts to press in, takes it slow and murmuring just loud enough for Harry to hear.

“There you go, you're good, Harry, you're good. Jesus.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. Harry's hot, clenching around him and it's good, the way he takes him in. He finally bottoms out and stays there, trying not to gasp. Harry has no such inhibitions, and Nick rubs a hand up and down his back. “You good?” he asks roughly.

Harry's nod is jerky. “Yeah,” he gets out. “Yeah, god, Nick, that's- that's good. Fuck,” he spits, spreading his legs out further, gets down so his arse is up in the air. The tension bleeds out of him with a shuddered sigh and Nick begins to move.

He keeps the thrusts shallow, gripping Harry's hips and pulling him into every push of his own. Harry bites his forearm to keep quiet and Nick gives a sharper thrust.

“None of that,” he chides, voice shakier than he would like, but Harry let's go and moans, so he's not bothered.

He picks up the pace after a few thrusts and Harry's noises pick up with it. It's like he doesn't quite know how to react, but that's what Nick likes, loves it when they're not trying too hard to show they like it.

“Good boy,” he murmurs and Harry turns his head to smile at him, cheek pressed into his pillow. His eyes are wet, but he doesn't look uncomfortable.

“Okay?”

Harry nods, hands still curled in the sheets on each side of his head, and he squeezes his eyes shut when the next thrust make Nick's cock catch on his prostate. He can't get out any words, just appreciative little moans and whimpers and Nick goes by those, speeds up until his hips are smacking against Harry's arse and pinking the skin.

Harry's long since given up on keeping any control, let's Nick move him as he wants, but he manages to curl a hand around his cock.

“Nick,” he gasps at last. “Nick, fuck, fuck, I'm- please-”

“You're good,” Nick groans, reaching around to give him a hand, his own covering Harry's so they're jacking him off together. “Fuck,” he spits when Harry clenches down around him, thrusts in once, twice, three times and coming before he's quite aware of it. He covers Harry with his body and bites down on his shoulder, groaning as he rocks into him, riding out his orgasm. Harry's breathless beneath him, trying to push back onto him, still wanting to come.

Nick pulls back after a moment of catching his breath and slowly pulls out. Tying off the condom he tosses it in the general direction of the bin and hopes he hits it, but can't care with how Harry rolls over and starts jerking himself off.

“Stop that,” Nick chides and knocks his hand away. It's easy to go down on him again, Harry comes mere seconds after he swallows around him. 

 

 

Nick gives up counting after that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is ridiculous don't hate me.


End file.
